Sleep was in short supply today; I was up at 4:50am for a dawn hike in the canyon to make the most of my stay (after my morning coffee of course). “Hike” is probably a generous way to describe it; the guide, a Singaporean couple and I rode in an electric buggy to a few viewpoints, and then at the final viewpoint we went along a 1.3km trail to one of the canyon rocks, and then back.

Dusk at Charyn Canyon

The views were spectacular, and the intensity of the hike was exactly what I was after (i was definitely not in the mood for strenuous activities).

A plane heads towards China, its trail lit by the morning light

Charyn Canyon views

Charyn Canyon is rather beautiful, but it doesn’t really give you a sense of awe and wonder. Maybe it was because I didn’t walk along the riverbed, looking up at the walls (and instead had the top-down view from above), but this definitely makes me feel less excited about canyons in general. (It feels a bit like seeing lions for the first time in person, and then realising that they aren’t as big as you think they would be).

Charyn Canyon views pt2

Posing at one of the protruding rocks

A mountain goat appears on the canyon wall

We were done by 8AM, so I tried (half heartedly) to take a nap back at the tent. The coffee and the early morning light had done its job however, after a bit of scrolling, it was time to get the day started. The first order of business was where I’d be headed to for the day; either Kolsai Lake (an attraction in Kazakhstan, ~100KM from the canyon), or Karakol, the first major town in Kyrgyzstan (~230km).

The journey continues

In the end i decided to go straight to Karakol. The glamping place, while warm and adequate, did not have the best washroom setup (shared among 16 guests and n tourists that visit during the day). The idea of repeating that at another popular attraction (Kolsai Lake) did not appeal to me - I have discovered that where there is the option, I tend to be more picky with where I stay - and so I continued on towards Kyrgyzstan at the highway turn off.

Today’s route in blue

The landscape really took me off guard. I did not expect much; I had imagined rolling steppe surrounding some unremarkable grassy mountains, but what I got was quite spectacular (though also foreboding in a sense).

Tien Shan in the background

Tall ranges of mountains shrouded with snow and ice. I was a bit thrown off by just how much snow there was; I had expected snow for the Karakoram Highway in Pakistan, but not this early on in the journey. It wasn’t even winter yet!

The other side of Charyn Canyon

I spent the morning stopping every time there was a new scene to take photos at, and taking my time. At one point, my phone navigation decided to turn itself off, after which I decided “I’m kinda close to the border, so it should be obvious how to get to Kyrgyzstan”.

The road to Karakol

After what felt like a little too much riding, I still had not yet reached the border, so I pulled over and checked the map. As it turns out, I was starting to approach a border, but one with China and not the correct one! I was ~40KM off course at this point, so I recognised the error of my ways (I should take navigation more seriously), keyed in Karakol into Yandex Maps, and then followed the directions.

Decided to take this photo, not realising I was 40KM off route!

What was strange, was that I was directed to turn from a nice asphalt road to one which was decaying and had seen years of use since its last repair. As I continued along the road, it steadily degraded (while at the same time, snow crept right up to the side of the road). Apart from herds of animals, I was the only person on this road for a while.

After 7KMs (of the 10 this road was supposed to be), the going got very tough. The snow beside the road (which was little more than a few pebbles thrown onto the dirt) started to melt in the midday sun, and started creating large puddles, and slick mud. I tried my best to avoid the puddles and muddier patches, but every now and then I was caught by a section, and had to struggle to regain traction and remain on the bike. After the 3rd large mud patch, I succumbed to the dirt, and my rear wheel lost traction, sliding out from under me. This was at relatively low speeds, so there weren’t safety issues, but I was a bit demoralised because it was clear that the road was getting muddier, rather than improving.

Mud and snow. Not my favourite combination

After I drop my bike, if the situation is safe / I don’t need to immediately get up and go, I usually take my time to reset mentally. This could be a bathroom break, a snack, some water, to put a few minutes between the adrenaline and the recovery. While I was doing this, a guy on a horse spotted me and started approaching.

It was honestly a godsend; halving the amount of energy required to pick up the bike and continue on. We had a broken conversation with google translate, where I was trying to understand the conditions for the remaining 3km of the route. “Does this get better or worse?” “It is worst ahead” I thought it was a mistranslation - but just in case I asked him if he could go with me for the 3KM to the asphalt road, in case I had any further drops.

What followed was the most difficult riding I’ve ever done. With a fully loaded bike, non-mud spec tyres (I feel like you need to have 100% offroad tyres and to ride aggressively for the mud, to be able to sling mud off the wheels as you go along), the bike went down at least 5 times. The guy on the horse (Murat he was called), helped guide me to the parts of the road (and surrounding areas) with the best traction, but even then it was quite tough going. The mud was hard to stand in with my boots, and the Ducati’s tyres were coated completely.

At one point I even gave my bike to Murat so he could have a go. It was good going for the first 10 metres, but he promptly dropped the bike at the next dip. Not a skill issue in that case(?)!

After 90 minutes, and a water and chocolate break in between, we finally made it to the asphalt road. Murat would not take any of the things I tried to share to express my gratitude; he was happy to have helped, and honestly I do not think I would have made it to the road without his help (I would have been demoralised much sooner and tried to find lodgings with the locals).

Murat the MVP

A plant produces (i think bitumen?) Honestly i think its worth the pollution. anything to stop the mud

It was smooth sailing from that point on to the Kyrgyz border (they are very fast at the Kegen border compared to the other ones with Kyrgyzstan). The roads were nice, and the landscape was skyrim-esque, shrouded with a layer of snow, with high mountains far in the background.

Mountain pass, separating Kyrgyzstan from Kazakhstan

This had me worried; I did not expect the mud and the snow, and now I’m afraid that many of the routes through Kyrgyzstan I thought would have been completely fine might now be impassable (whether due to mud, or snow/ice on the roads). I have decided to be more risk averse (and diligent) with my routing going forwards, and will opt for highways over more interesting routes.

Made it!

Karakol is the main town near Kyrgyzstan’s famous lake - Issy-kul. It is a ski resort town, and many of the people here cater to the tourists brought by Issy-kul. It is rather small; no high rises (maybe nothing above 2 storey buildings?), but nice and quaint. As sun set, the roads were filled with wood smoke, as each household got their fires going. Thankfully, the roads leading into town were completely absent of snow, so it gives me hope that the rest of Kyrgyzstan may be similarly blessed as I continue my way down south to the Chinese border.

Stacked dinner to celebrate

A very comfortable delivery driver rests (in the cold)

I will rest in Karakol for 2 nights while I figure out my plan to reach Osh; whether I go by Kazarman (as previously planned), or by Bishkek (which I do not prefer, but may need to do anyway).

Some stats:

• 265 KMs travelled
• 10.3L fuel added
• 5 unique interactions; and
• 30g coffee consumed.